Close enough.
“And he just lay there?” Quincy asked. “Let you crush his larynx and plunge a knife into his chest?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We fought.” He speared him with his glistening gray eyes. “I won.”
Sun feigned boredom. “Then that was your blood all over Kubrick’s T-shirt.”
Another knowing grin crept into the corners of his mouth. “You mean all over his denim jacket and that flannel shirt he wore every fucking day of his miserable fucking life?”
Two for two. He was the first confessor to get this far. Besides Levi, of course, but she hadn’t questioned him this extensively.
“Unless,” he continued, “you’re talking about the filthy wife-beater underneath.”
Sun’s knee-jerk reaction to the derogatory term for an A-line tank top bucked inside her. Regardless, she didn’t move a muscle. Didn’t flinch. Yet he knew.
“I’m sorry.” He tilted his head to study her. “Did that offend your delicate sensibilities?”
“The only thing offending my delicate sensibilities, Mr. Ravinder, is the fact that you think we came here for tea and scones. You haven’t proven anything.”
He shrugged. “Then check the blood on Brick’s jacket. My DNA’s in the system. I’m assuming you sent in a sample.” He leaned forward. “You wouldn’t have a reason to hold off on that, would you?”
Sun’s façade slipped for a split second. It was all a predator like him needed. She’d just showed her hand, but he couldn’t possibly know how long she’d waited before sending the evidence in to the lab in Santa Fe along with Levi’s DNA. Not without having some fantastic connections.
Quincy cast a curious glance her way before returning his attention to their host.
She hadn’t told him she’d kept Levi’s DNA sample in her desk drawer far longer than she had a right to. And part of her wasn’t really sure why. Other than the fact that, if it was a match, he could go to prison. If it came out that she’d withheld evidence, even for a short time, in a murder investigation, she could lose her job.
The unfortunate fact that evidence in general tended to get lost or contaminated when surfing through the channels of justice could work in her favor should it come to that, but no one could prove that she took the sample on any given day. Besides Levi himself, and she could hardly see him turning her in.
Wynn leaned closer to Sun and lowered his voice. “What do you say we ditch Captain America over there and continue this conversation alone?”
“Over my dead body,” Quincy said.
He shook his head and tsked. “That is the wrong thing to say in this place, junior.”
“Why are you confessing?” she asked him.
“Why do you care?” he countered. “You’ll have your man. You’ll have solved the case. You’ll probably get a medal. Isn’t that all you badges care about?”
After a long thoughtful moment, she said quietly, “Chief Deputy Cooper, can you leave us alone for a minute?”
He tried to hide his astonishment when he looked at her. He failed. After a long, tense moment, he recovered, cleared his throat, and said, “No, ma’am.”
She gave him her full attention and said softly, “Deputy, that’s an order.”
He stared at her for what seemed like an hour. She could practically see his mind racing with all the scenarios of how this could end badly. But she didn’t like showing her vulnerabilities. It would be hard enough asking what she wanted to ask Wynn without having Quincy in the room. Besides, statistically, men were much more apt to open up to a woman.
“They frisked him,” she assured her partner. “They’re right outside the door. I’ll be fine.”
Wynn sat back in his chair, clearly amused when Quincy unfolded his large frame, tossed him a quick glare, and headed toward the door. With a single knock, it opened and Quince was shown outside.
When it closed again, she said, “I don’t believe you.”
“Then get over it, because it doesn’t matter. You’ll have your killer.”
“It matters.”
“No, apple blossom,” he said, leaning forward again. “It doesn’t. The investigation will be closed. The case will be solved. And all of those people breathing down your neck can go fuck themselves.”
Her mind churned with questions. There was so much she wanted to know, but to trust a convicted felon would make her all kinds of stupid.
Still, a part of her wanted him to be the killer, because there was no denying the most damning piece of evidence of all. The ID bracelet Kubrick had clutched in his hands, even after fifteen years of animal mauling and decomposition. The ID bracelet with Levi’s name on it.
She decided to play along with Wynn for now. Curiosity won out every time. “Were you in it with him?” When he didn’t answer, she clarified. “Did you help him abduct me?”
The look he gave her, part concern and part sympathy, almost convinced her he cared. Almost. “No, Sunshine. I found out later. After he’d taken you.”
“That’s when you joined his cause?” When he only deadpanned her, she added, “It was a lot of money. Who could blame you?”
“And here I thought we were becoming friends.”
“Walk me through it. You found out Kubrick abducted me and then what? You came to my rescue out of the kindness of your heart?”
He kept his gaze trained on her face. In fact, besides an initial sizing up, he hadn’t ogled her or objectified her in any way. Hell, even the guards had done that when she and Quince had walked in. Did that imply a level of respect? Or was he simply that cunning?
“There isn’t much kindness left in my heart, apple blossom. But at the time? Sure. Why not.”
She nodded and decided to delve deeper. “How did you find out where he was keeping me?”
“It wasn’t difficult. Brick was a creature of habit.”
“He’d taken other women there?”
“You weren’t a woman,” Wynn said, suddenly serious. “You were a kid.”
“I was seventeen.”
“Exactly. Either way, no. Brick was not in the habit of abducting women. He used that shed as a hunting cabin.”
“Okay. You figured out he was keeping me there and then what?”
“And then nothing. He busted me trying to get you out. We fought. The rest is history.”
She nodded, deep in thought. “Who took me to the hospital?”
He spread his cuffed hands, indicating himself.
Her chest tightened so hard, so fast, it felt like it was going to explode. Wynn Ravinder was certainly the right build. The person in the hospital surveillance video seemed younger, but even now, in his forties, Wynn was lithe and agile.
“What did you give me? In the truck?”
“Besides a ride?”
He didn’t know. Then again, it was a long time ago and he was bleeding profusely. How could anyone remember every minute detail? Maybe he really did forget.
She studied him and decided that was not likely. Quincy was right. He was playing her. Though he did seem fairly certain the lab results would prove his DNA was on Kubrick’s clothes. But even that could be explained. He could’ve been a part of her abduction with Kubrick. They could’ve argued about the two-million ransom they were demanding. Came to blows. None of this proved he came to her rescue.